Scooting home form Betws-y-Coed one Sunday evening back in 1958, Nick Lidstone fantasized that if he just kept the throttle pinned on his newly acquired 125cc Douglas Vespa it could transport him around the world. Next morning he’d handed in his notice before the dream had completely faded. With no fixed itinerary in mind except to travel in a westerly direction, Nick set out on 6 August 1960, his intent being a leisurely loop of the globe.
Ready to roll the scoot resembled a badly stamped wool bale on wheels, however, to this day Nick maintains the overloading actually aided stability though he paid the price in punctures, which totalled 23 by the time he reached Calcutta. But stability is one matter, handling another – as he found out crossing the Simplon Pass where he dropped the machine, ripping off a footrest and smashing the windscreen.
Before leaving Switzerland an old family friend provided Nick with medications that may later have saved his life – a life that Nick took into his own hands when he entered ‘communist’ Yugoslavia at what was the height of the cold war. But apart from some futile attempts at securing bribes by the border police, Nicholas was soon enjoying a retsina or four in Greece prior to crossing the Bosphorus to Asia. Here the roads, or lack thereof, were a constant concern and, after multiple punctures, the Vespa’s tyres were shot.
Eighty miles out from Tabriz with an empty horizon in every direction there was a loud bang and a plunging crash into a dust bath laced with rocks. Nick was finally rescued when the tyre-shredded scooter was loaded onto a pile of Persian carpets atop the local bus. Below, wedged in between sheep, chickens, goats and the occasional human, Nick was in a far less comfortable position, particularly after foolishly drinking some local water. Arriving in Tabriz he managed to make it to a cheap hotel where, after swallowing the bulk of the medication he’d so fortunately received in Switzerland, he passed out for two days.
With the Vespa serviced and shod with fresh rubber Nick then headed for Pakistan where the rough track continued to cause troubles as heavy rains in the mountains resulted in frequent fast flowing washaways. one of these entirely swallowed the Vespa to the point where only the luggage box was above water. Nicholas spent the next few days emptying the engine of mud only to find the Vespa needed a new magneto, making this one of the lowest points in the journey.
In hospital – the result of breaking his left foot for the third time on his 12,000km odyssey – Nick was fussed over by the Doctors and nurses and provided with his own bearer to see to his needs, all at no cost. In fact, Nick holds an ever pervasive and humbling memory of the hospitality of strangers along the road, always offering smiles and good wishes for a safe journey.
On arrival in Fremantle, where he arrived with just 18 bob in his pocket, Nick had to replenish his funds. Six months later he’d conquered the Nullarbor and eventually made his way to Sydney via the pretty little village of Berrima, not realising at the time that it was there he would spend his next 50 years, marrying Ann and raising two sons. And it’s in Berrima that the shell of the Vespa still resides. Nick, being far too sentimental to accept one of the many offers to buy it, decided it deserved a far more dignified end and let it slowly disintegrate back to the earth from whence it came.
© Peter Whitaker 18 February 2016
